


the tur test

by orphan_account



Category: Political RPF - US 21st c., Pundit & Broadcast Journalist RPF (US), Real News RPF
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/F, Interviews, Women Being Awesome, media relations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-22
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-11-17 04:38:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11268108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “You know,” Katy says, scratching her chin, “I feel like this is a kind of metaphor for the 2016 election but I can’t put my finger on why.”“Everything is a metaphor for the 2016 election,” Kamala says. “As long as you try hard enough.”





	the tur test

After her forth on-camera interview, Kamala considers that maybe there is something to the right’s point of having less press access – not that she has anything to hide or that she doesn’t want people to know what she’s doing or what her views are.

It’s just that it’s so fucking _boring_. Just stick to the talking points, Senator; you can’t swear, Senator; no, don’t tell that anecdote, Senator; you can’t say that, Senator; no, it’s not classified, it’s just mean.

“Senator Burr _is_ fucking around, though,” Kamala tells Nathan, during their prep for her next interview that afternoon.

“I’m not arguing with that,” Nathan says, “but you can’t say that on national television. Senator Warner was clear that the Senate Intelligence Committee is to present a unified, bipartisan front.”

She raises a brow. “After he called Burr out, during a live hearing, on a hot mike?”

“In his defense, he didn’t know the mike was hot.” He pauses for a second, then chuckles softly. “That was pretty freaking hilarious.”

“It really was,” she grins. After all, how many times does the behind-the-scenes tension make its way out into the public sphere? But still, even though it was there, that didn’t mean she could comment on it on the record.

“We are working very closely with our Republican counterparts to ensure that we all arrive at the truth, no matter what that truth is,” she says, later that day on Meet the Press. “That’s what both sides want and that’s what both sides will get.”

“Are you sure there’s not _some_ partisan bickering,” Katy asks, leaning on her arm as she stares down the camera, “especially given how often you’ve been interrupted or asked to pull back on your questioning? I mean, only you have been called out for your questioning.”

At that, Kamala can’t resist the slightest of smirks. “I don’t think that problem in particular is caused by the divide between Republicans and Democrats,” she says. “If you know what I mean.”

Katy, lovely girl that she is, lets out a laugh, shaking her head as it trails off into a sigh. “Senator Harris, thank you so much for joining us today.” She reads out a couple of headlines as they prep for the next segment, waiting until the commercial break has begun to say, “I’m guessing your staff doesn’t not allowed to call it sexist or racist?”

Kamala shrugs a little. “I’m not sure which it is, so I’m trying to keep an open mind,” she says, clearly sarcastic. Her lips quirk when Katy laughs again and she adds, “My staff is inclined to think, however, that if I keep bringing it up, it might distract from the legitimate issues.”

“Sexism and racism are legitimate problems that should be addressed, both on the Republican side and the Democrat side,” Katy says. “It’s not exclusive to one side of the aisle, and they should be called out and dealt with as effectively as possible.”

“You’re absolutely right,” Kamala agrees. It’s quite nice how determined and firm Katy looks, and wasn’t she on the campaign trail with Trump, subject to so much abuse by, well, everyone there. She probably knows better than most how insultingly sexist some people can be. “We should do this again, sometime, Katy.”

“Indeed, we should,” Katy says, and she smiles. “Have a good day, Senator Harris.”

“You too,” Kamala says. She’s still smiling a little when the cameras turn off and from behind them, Nathan gives her a look.

“You shouldn’t keep talking to a reporter,” he says, “even after the cameras have stopped rolling and they’ve said the interview is over. You never know what they might air.”

She rolls her eyes, straightening out her coat and walking over to him. “It’s not like I said anything risqué or edgy,” she points out. “And besides, I like Katy Tur. She’s good at what she does.”

“Oh really?” Nathan crosses his arms. “Then why did you give Jake Tapper your first interview as senator, then, and not her?”

Kamala looks right at him. “You know fully well why I did that.”

His expression wavers for a moment, then he lets out a slow sigh. “Yeah, no, I get it,” he says. “I’d do exactly the same thing.”

“Yeah you would.” Her phone buzzes and she checks it while they walk back to her offices, and in the back of her mind, she wonders if – or, maybe, _when_ – she’ll see Katy again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It’s actually later that day.

Kamala’s in New York, umbrella in her hand as she walks down the street, eyes scanning the roads for wherever her driver is supposed to be, and she’s just thinking about how pointless it is having a driver if you can’t use them in moments like these –

When she sees Katy standing under a canopy, phone in her hands and texting rapidly as a car passes her by. She looks up and their eyes meet and they both blink at the same time.

Katy is the first one to speak. “Senator,” she says, eyes wide in surprise, “what are you doing here?”

“Hi, Katy,” Kamala replies. She tries for a genial smile and hopes it comes off as such. “I was just here to…. Uh…” Well, she can’t exactly admit that she was here to have drinks with Kirsten and complain about all the shit that’s been happening with ACHA, so instead she says, “I had a… meeting.”

“A meeting?” Katy raises a brow, understandably intrigued. “Could you elaborate on that? Does it have anything to do with the Senate probe into Russia?”

“It was… personal.” Shit, maybe she shouldn’t have said that, now it sounds worse. She clears her throat. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, I was going to start walking home after some shopping but, uh…” Katy gestures haplessly. “It started raining and, as you can see, I don’t really have an umbrella.”

“That sucks,” Kamala purses her lips together in sympathy. She’s about to offer her umbrella – it’s the least she can do, really – but then, out of the corner of her eye, she spots her car and another idea comes to mind. “Hey, why don’t you hitch a ride with me?”

“Oh, I couldn’t do that…” Katy says, though her tone isn’t at all convincing as the rain starts to come down even harder with thunder rolling in the distance. She looks out to the streets and then back to her, expression still deliberative.

“Come on, it’s much better than standing out here,” Kamala insists. The car stops in front of them and she pulls the door open. “Get in. You can think of a way to pay me back later.”

Katy does hesitate, but just for a moment, before sliding in quickly. She pulls her bags into her lap as Kamala climbs inside and then they’re off. They sit in silence for a few seconds until Katy clears her throat.

“Thanks for, uh, doing this for me,” she says, glancing over at Kamala. “But don’t think this means I’ll go easier on you or spare scoops for your sake.”

Kamala chuckles. “I wouldn’t expect anything less from the fine journalists at MSNBC.”

Katy laughs, shaking her head a little as she readjusts the bags in her lap. The rain hits the windows steadily, soft enough to hear but not loud enough to drown out the noises of the city. She spares a few more looks at Kamala, then finally turns her head properly and says, “Okay, there are some things I’m just _dying_ to know – if I promise not to report on any of this, could you please answer some of my questions?”

Kamala pretends to think about it for a moment, but it’s not long before the smile breaks out of her controlled expression. “Yeah, all right,” she hums. “I mean, since you’re _dying_ to know…”

She spares no second, turning her whole body toward Kamala with an anticipatory glint in her eyes – just like a journalist who’s just about to get their burning questions answered. “Okay, is the pee tape real?”

“I ask Mark Warner that every single day and he still has yet to give me an answer,” Kamala replies, in all seriousness. “If it is real and it is released to the entire committee, I guarantee you that it’ll take all of five minutes before all the major networks have it.”

“Honestly, that’s the only thing I want to know at this point,” Katy admits, lips curling slightly, likely out of embarrassment. “I mean, if the tape is real, then, well, that’s – that’s incredibly insane.”

“Believe me, I know,” Kamala sighs. She shakes her head, running a hand through her hair and leaning back. “It’s ridiculous, this whole thing. I mean, god, all the evidence is there and yet, there are… certain people who seem to believe that it’s their job to disregard that and defend the people under investigation.”

“Is one of these people nicknamed ‘Little’?” Katy asks.

“Why yes, how did you guess?”

They both laugh after that, Katy covering her mouth and Kamala struggling to stifle a grin, and their eyes meet again and the first thought in Kamala’s mind is, _She’s kind of cute_ … _Oh shit, you shouldn’t be thinking that…_

The car suddenly stops and Katy starts grabbing her bags, both in one hand, and she’s reaching for the door handle before, suddenly, turning back to look at her. “Do you want to come up for a nightcap?”

Kamala blinks, trying to process what she’s hearing. “A nightcap?”

“Yeah. I mean, it’s raining and you sound like you need it, so…” Her tongue darts out a little and her eyes glance everywhere else until they finally meet hers and oh wow, Katy Tur is nervous about inviting her up to her apartment for a nightcap. Well, that does make some sense, but also, _wow._

“Okay,” Kamala says. She clears her throat a little and nods again. “Yeah, that – that sounds great.”

Katy’s face seems to brighten up and she smiles, soft and a little demure. “Okay,” she says. “I… I’ll go out, then.” She gets out of the car, dashing through until she makes it under a canopy to stop for a moment and catch her breath.

Kamala turns to her driver and shrugs. “I, uh, guess I’ll call when I need a ride back.”

He nods. “Have a fun time, Senator.”

“I think I will,” she replies. She closes the door behind her and opens up the umbrella, walking carefully so she doesn’t slip. She steps up right beside Katy and then realizes she let her run out in the rain without offering the umbrella. Shit.

Katy seems to realize this too and she says, “I probably should’ve waited for you to get that out before running off, huh?”

“And I should’ve pointed out that I had this umbrella in the first place,” Kamala replies. She spins it around a little, to the side, letting the droplets fly around wildly.

“You know,” Katy says, scratching her chin, “I feel like this is a kind of metaphor for the 2016 election but I can’t put my finger on why.”

“Everything is a metaphor for the 2016 election,” Kamala says. “As long as you try hard enough.”

Katy laughs at that, and really, it’s a nice laugh that spreads across her face and lights it up, even in the middle of a dark rainstorm. She slides the bags up her arm and starts rummaging for her keys.

Kamala manages all of a few seconds before curiosity gets the better of her. “Hey, Katy,” she starts, voice careful and controlled, “when you said nightcap, did you mean drinks or did you mean sex?”

To her credit, Katy barely fumbles as she starts unlocking her door. She grabs the doorknob and pauses a moment. “Well,” she says, “I did mean drinks, but, now that I think about it, I wouldn’t really mind the other option.”

“That’s good to hear,” Kamala says. A slight bit of hysterical laughter bubbles in her chest and she pushes it down as Katy pushes open the door. They step inside, one after the other, the silence between them almost eerie if it wasn’t for the ambient sound of the rain still clearly heard, and they take their time getting ready.

Kamala sets down her umbrella, Katy puts down her bags, and then they’re, all of a sudden, kissing. Katy’s lips are a little smaller than hers but they’re soft and Kamala holds the back of her head, fingers carding through her damp hair as she pulls her closer.

Katy presses her back against the wall and takes off Kamala’s coat, casting it aside without a care as she starts to work on the buttons of her blouse. Kamala leans her arms back and helps her pull it off. It lands by her feet and she does step on it a little but, well, she’s sure Katy has a washing machine somewhere.

She grabs her hips and spins around, moving her lips to the side of her neck and taking in a deep breath. “Damn,” she says, softly, lifting her face up, “what kind of perfume do you use? You smell fantastic.”

“It’s Love Story by Chloe,” Katy chuckles. She takes this time to lift her shirt over her head and throws it over Kamala’s shoulder, leaning her hips up so she can take off her pants as well, and then she’s just standing there in her bra and underwear.

Kamala can’t help it, she lets out a low whistle. “That’s a fine set,” she says.

 “I’d rather see yours,” Katy replies smoothly, and Kamala laughs. She moves forward and kisses her again, a hand resting on her waist as she sucks on her bottom lip. Katy hums softly, eyelashes fluttering against Kamala’s nose, but she’s not distracted enough not to unzip Kamala’s trousers and pull down her underwear.

She spares no time in teasing her cunt, well-manicured fingers rubbing around the edges and barely brushing against her clit, before moving all in and fucking her. They slide in and out, reaching as far as they can go and pressing along the walls on the way out, in paced and measured strokes. Kamala breathes into her ear, grip on her hips tightening, and she bites her lip when Katy’s thumb starts rubbing her clit.

She does moan when she comes, gasping softly and hanging her head against her shoulder as she catches her breath. She stands straight just as Katy removes her hand and sucks on one of her fingers, still a little sticky with her cum.

“Wow,” she says, in honest and genuine surprise. “You taste fantastic. What’s in your diet?”

“Lots and lots of fruits and vegetables,” Kamala says plainly. She presses a quick kiss to the corner of her mouth quirk. “All right, now it’s my turn.”

“Be my guest, Senator,” Katy hums.

Kamala chuckles softly and zips up her pants before getting down on her knees in front of Katy. She moves her hands up her sides, kissing the inside of her thighs, until she reaches her underwear. God, it’s already damp. She pulls it down until it falls to the floor and spreads Katy’s legs, waiting a second just to appreciate the moment, then starts to eat her out.

A hand makes its way into her hair as her tongue makes its way into her cunt, sucking on her clit with the barest hint of teeth. Her fingers dig a little into Katy’s skin but the soft moans and sighs seem to cancel out whatever discomfort she might be feeling. She curls her tongue and licks her entrance, pressing inside gently, and she keeps going a little while after Katy throws her head back and tightens her hands and moans loudly enough that Kamala can feel it as she gives a final flick to her clit.

She sits back on her heels for a moment, licking her lips and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, before getting to her feet.

Katy is still panting a little, face flushed and her hair sticking to her forehead as she takes in deep breaths. She looks over at Kamala with wide eyes. “That was...”

“I know,” Kamala finishes for her. She rubs her arm sympathetically, then says, “Do you know what your refractory period is?”

Katy blinks a couple of times, then shakes her head. “I mean, it’s not too long but I’m not sure...”

Kamala nods. “All right, do you want to drink some wine and have sex again in a bit? Maybe on a bed this time?”

“I don’t know,” Katy says, slowly, as she grabs her shirt off the floor. She pulls it over her head and shrugs a little, smile playing on her lips. “Fucking against a wall is kind of hot, you know?”

Kamala scoffs, shaking her head. “Oh, boy, it gets really boring after the first few times. I can’t remember the last time I had sex in a bed.”

“Where was the last time you had sex?” Katy asks.

“You really want to know?” she chuckles a little and wraps an arm around her shoulders. “You’re gonna want some wine and a seat for this.”

Katy walks with her, leaning into her touch as she turns her head to raise a brow. “Is this off the record?”

“Trust me,” Kamala smirks, “you wouldn’t want to be the one to break this story.”

**Author's Note:**

> tldr Katy Tur and Kamala Harris are two amazing women who deserve a lot more than they get.


End file.
